The Lucky One
by Lavenderangel
Summary: Summary: “You’re the lucky one, Jack. You don’t have to go through any of this pain.” Jack’s POV on his break down with Rachel in Getting Hitched. Complete.


Title: The Lucky One Author: Lauren Rating: K+ Pairing: Jack/Rachel Summary: "You're the lucky one, Jack. You don't have to go through any of this pain." Jack's POV on his break down with Rachel in Getting Hitched. Complete.  
Spoilers: We'll have a Good Time Then, Getting Hitched.  
Author's notes: My first Boy Meets World fic in years. I've always had a soft spot for Jack/Rachel, specifically their first kiss scene. But it wasn't about the kiss for me; it was about how he broke down in front of her. Maybe it was just in the heat of the moment, and he was no doubt overwhelmed and emotionally stretched to his limit, but there's something special, at least to me, that he allowed himself to break down in front of Rachel. Wow, that was a long sentence. Anyway, hopefully you enjoy this and sorry for the unbeta'dness of it.  
Disclaimer: The characters and situations used in this fiction do not belong to me.

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Looking back on it, I don't know if I subconsciously wanted it to happen or not. If it had been a few months, even a few weeks ago, I think a small part of me would have relished her concern. Soaked up the worried looks I've seen her shoot me, when she thinks I'm not looking.

But this isn't a few months ago, this is now. This is life without my dad, really without my dad and Eric and Rachel and no one else really matter anymore.

They've been worried; I know that. It was awkward that night, getting home from the hospital. I mumbled out a thank you at Rachel's shoes for the picture. Logic told me it was from her. She said something and reached out to touch me, maybe to hug me, but I couldn't handle that right then. I was too overwhelmed, maybe experiencing a little bit of shock. So I let her touch my shoulder for a second. When it felt like she was about to do more, I pulled away and looked at Eric when I said good night. It was almost worse looking at him than looking at Rachel would have been, because Eric knows me better. Maybe better than anyone.

I heard them talking in low, worried whispers as I ascended the stairs.

It got better after that, after the funeral. At the funeral I let people touch me. I let Mrs. Matthews hug me; I let Topanga kiss my cheek. I let Rachel grab my hand out of pure desperation and need on my part, when they lowered him into the grave, even though I was trying to be strong for Shawn, who was standing on my other side and yet so much further away.

Now though, days later, I don't know what to do. Rachel and I are talking again; I'm joking with Eric almost like before. Shawn's not like before, though. Not at all.

And I don't know how to deal with that. I don't know how to deal with him; I don't know him really, I never have.

I didn't know Chet, either. No, no. I can't think about Chet.

I try talking to Shawn; practically beg him to help clean out Chet's trailer. It smells like Chet and alcohol. I wonder if that's how it always smelled. Could he cook anything? Stop it, stop it.

Shawn makes me stop by coming in. But then it all goes out of control. He finds out that Mark, my step dad's paying for his tuition and he's out of there, leaving me. The lucky one. I don't have to deal with any of this pain.

I want to go after him, but I just don't have the energy. His words won't stop resounding throughout my head and I head home, emotionally drained.

Rachel's there, doing dishes. We start out with small talk but then something happens; I lose it and just start babbling. Spit Shawn's words back at her. "I'm the lucky one; I don't have to deal with any of that pain." And the torrent of words won't stop, no matter what she says.

"You can't keep this inside you, you just can't." Yes, yes I can. I have to. Shawn; Shawn needs me; Shawn needs his lucky brother. His big, pathetic brother who shouldn't be feeling this way.

His damned half brother who feels something breaking inside him; inside me. Stinging; burning; crashing and the tears spill out on a gasp like a sob. Rachel's arms are suddenly around me tight and gentle, and she whispers words that aren't true. She says it'll be okay but it won't; it can't but I don't have the strength to even begin to try and say that. I just sit, unable to control anything anymore and let the agony roll over me, through me, unfair tears I don't have the right to be shedding but have no power to stop drenching her.

"Its okay, it's okay. It's okay. It's okay. Oh, Jack…" Stop it, Rachel, please stop it. Don't say my name like that, like this is all right, like I'm allowed to be feeling this way. Like concern. I can't handle that.

Maybe she senses this, maybe she feels the same way. This must be overwhelming, having her roommate curled next to her, cought in a reck of sobs and slick tears. Maybe she can't handle it either, because suddenly we're kissing, my wet face pressing against hers. It's a hard, passion seared kiss, filled with grief and concern, and everything in-between.

And what happens after this suddenly becomes what doesn't matter. This second matters, because right now, right here, I am the lucky one. I don't have to deal with that pain, not alone. Not anymore.

fEnd 


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